


Sweaters

by Frostbuny



Category: South Park
Genre: Fluff, High School, M/M, One Shot, Rated for Craig's language, So much blushing, Token being the best bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 11:29:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8284259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frostbuny/pseuds/Frostbuny
Summary: Where Kenny comes to school without a sweater in winter, and Craig gets caught up in his feels.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Agh! So this is my first post on here~! The story isn't my best, but I really wanted to post it anyway.  
> I kinda wanted to write something where Kenny isn't a complete slut?   
> Hope you enjoy~!

    He absently wondered if there was a reason the kid showed up to school without a sweater in the middle of winter. The blonde played it off like it did not bother him, and he laughed like there were not a million goosebumps coating his arms. His nose was red from the cold, and his body shuddered every few seconds. Craig wanted to approach him and call him out on his lies, but there would be no point in it. Instead, he watched the blonde trail behind his friends until the group was out of sight.

    “Pisses me off,” he mumbled under his breath, turning his attention back to his friends. Clyde raised his brow at him, mildly confused by this proclamation. “People that don’t take care of themselves. It pisses me off.”

    Clyde, though he obviously had no clue what his friend was speaking of, nodded in agreement. His usual long brown hair was pulled into a silly ponytail that revealed the mild acne he had on his forehead. Craig wanted to tell his friend to be more careful about his hygiene, but Token was giving Craig a look. The noirette angled his body away from his friend’s serious gaze.  _ I hate when he looks at me like that _ .

    “Anyway, how long you keeping that thing in?” Token asked, changing his focus onto something else. He was referring to the ponytail in their friend’s hair. Clyde’s face lit up at the attention. His friends were always doing something weird and strange; Craig had long since gotten used to their antics. They also knew when he needed to be left to his own vices, and he appreciated the shift in focus from himself.

    “She said she wanted me to go the whole day with it,” he responded. His fingers twirled around the hair that puffed out on the top. Half his hair was still falling in the back, but his front bangs were pulled up tight into the ponytail. It was a good look on the brunette, and Craig was able to appreciate it.  “I kinda like it.”

    Craig rolled his eyes while adjusting his backpack on his shoulder. It was 7:23 and the bell was to ring in two minutes. He was not in a rush to get to his first period, but he definitely did not want to laze around in the halls. They were crowded with students he would rather never speak to.  _ More like they don’t want to talk to me. _ “I’m gonna go. See you guys at lunch,” he gave them a half-committed wave before making his way to the classroom.

    He was blessed with English first thing in the morning. He was grateful he did not need to practice the quadratic equation or take notes on dead historians that early in the day. However, Craig was not completely blessed with his first period. In the desk directly in front of his sat a blonde that was shivering from the cold in the room, no sweater in sight. Craig avoided eye contact and sat in his desk behind the blonde, a frown morphing his face as he looked at the back of the blonde’s head.

    His hair seemed to have been recently cut; the only reason Craig knew this was because just yesterday it had been curling at the base of the blonde’s neck. Now it was neatly trimmed - save for the few red marks along the back from irritation. Kenny turned around in his seat - probably from feeling the noirette’s harsh stare on his neck. The blonde smiled at him, and opened his mouth to say something before closing it again.

    The blonde bit at his lip in thought, his soft blue eyes watching Craig’s face. The noirette waited patiently for Kenny to speak; it only lasted a few seconds, but he felt like he was watching the the boy for minutes. “How’s your morning going, Tucker?”

    Craig’s expression did not change as he continued to frown at the other male. It had been years since he held a conversation with the blonde. Even now that they shared the class together, the two were rare to speak to each other. It slightly aggravated Craig that Kenny was only making an effort to speak to him  _ now _ . “Like you care,” Craig raised his middle finger at the blonde. “I don’t give a fuck about you, McCormick.”

    Kenny flicked Craig’s middle finger, causing the noirette to pull away immediately. “Wasn’t that a single fuck you just gave me, though? Contradictor,” he snorted before turning in his desk to face the front again.  _ Asshole _ .

    The noirette honestly did not care about Kenny or his well-being, but seeing the blonde act like he was not freezing his ass off set something off in Craig. He and Kenny, against contrary belief, were not that close. Everyone assumed they were buddies because they talked in middle school, but that was years ago. Things had changed between them. The noirette had nothing against Kenny, but they certainly could not be considered friends. This meant he could not offhandedly suggest the blonde start wearing sweaters. Craig knew that if a complete stranger approached him and told him to stop smoking, he would easily flick the person off and ignore the unwanted advice.

    He  _ honestly _ ,  _ really, truly _ did not care about the blonde. He told himself this throughout the whole class period, but his eyes never stopped taking in the details of Kenny’s new haircut. It was a soft fade into the undercut, where the hair on top pooled over his ears and a little into his face.  _ His face. _ Craig was a stickler for hygiene; this is the reason he gave himself for admiring Kenny’s face and its lack of acne.  _ Not _ because he found the blonde attractive.  _ Fuck you. _

    The blonde turned halfway in his seat, regarding the noirette with steady eyes. After a pause, he whispered, “Seriously, Tucker. Why the hell are you looking at me?” 

    Craig shrugged, feeling like a kid getting scolded, and dropped his gaze down to his desk. He started to doodle random designs onto the school’s property with his pencil, ignoring the blonde’s gaze on him. After a few seconds, Kenny turned back to the front. If his stiff shoulders were anything to go by, Craig could tell he was annoyed.  _ Good. He deserves to be annoyed. Fucking asshole, and his perfect fucking face. _

**~OoO~**

_ The bullies were a normal occurrence. Craig had long since gotten used to their harsh words. They called him all sorts of names and insults. He knew they were just asshole preteens, but their words still affected him. He was worried about his appearance, his voice, his actions. He stopped going to school without a hat - only emo kids had black hair. He changed the way he spoke - he did not want to sound like a nasally nerd. He changed the way he walked - if he kept his head down, he could avoid eye contact.  _

_ He trained his mind to deal with the bullies. If they tried to talk to him, he would pretend he could not hear them. If they approached him, he flipped them off. If they got physical, he stayed as still and passive as possible until they left him alone. _

_ He’d cry later. For now, he needed to stay strong. _

**~OoO~**

    “There is no way you kept it on all day,” Token laughed, his disbelief strong in his voice. “Clyde, you’re insane.”

    The brunette shrugged, flicking at the strands still being neatly kept in the ponytail. “Like I said, I like it. Not having hair in my face,” he explained, a triumphant expression filling his face. Craig tuned out the conversation, his dark eyes taking in the people in the cafeteria. It was a weird habit he had to watch people. Everyone was always doing something, and it was a strange form of entertainment for him. That is, when he was not completely lost in his head and trying to figure out the numerous reasons those people never spoke to him.  _ This isn’t the time to be insecure, Tucker. Stop that. _

    His eyes lingered on Kenny for a minute, watching him laugh with his friends before wrapping his arms around himself to warm up.  _ Fucking idiot. _ He then went to watch the other people in the large room. He recognized a few people, but he did not speak to any of them. Craig Tucker did not like other humans, and other humans did not like Craig Tucker.

    Clyde and Token were really the only two friends he had. Sometimes he would kick Tweek’s ass in video games, or talk to Jimmy when they shared a class. Other than that, he never found himself speaking to people outside his friend group. His peer’s eyes were too judgemental for him to ever consider branching out his social group. The jocks hung out with their team, the goths smoked pot behind the school, and the nerds geeked out in the library. Craig, for some inexplicable reason, did not belong to any of these social groups.

    He was friends with Clyde because they had known each other since they were kids; their parents were buddies, so they practically grew up as brothers. Token only hung out with them - in the beginning - because his parents wanted him to make friends. Being the new, rich kid made him weary of making friends, but he found himself gravitating towards Clyde and Craig. Now the trio were golden, and they trusted each other without question. Craig figured they needed each other, in some aspects. When you stick to the same two people for years, you build an attachment to them that can not be easily destroyed.

    That did not stop his insecurities from eating away at him.

    “I forget there are so many people here,” Craig muttered under his breath. Token picked up on it and shot his friend a sympathetic look. Craig hated that look. Token always acted like he knew the noirette’s every secret, and he probably did. He knew the little phrases and mannerisms Craig obtained when he was caught up in his poisonous thoughts. “I just- I dunno. Ignore me.”

    “Dude, what’s up? You rarely say shit like that,” Clyde now turned towards him as well.  _ Great, I drew attention to myself. Fuck _ .

    “If you’re having those thoughts again-”

    Craig groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’m not. I promise. I was just pointing that out,” his voice was muffled behind his fingers, but his friends understood him. Clyde patted him on the back before continuing his conversation about his hair. The noirette was grateful they did not push the topic. They always knew - always. They knew when Craig needed to be on his own.

**~OoO~**

_ Kenny liked to think of himself as a hero. He helped people out when they needed someone to be there. He punched assholes in the face, and he hugged girls when they just went through a breakup. He helped elderly with their grocery bags, and he was a volunteer in his brother’s elementary school. Overall, Kenny thought he was a pretty good guy. _

_ When he saw Craig Tucker all bruised up and crying in the bathroom by himself? Kenny knew he had to do something about the situation. He sat down beside the noirette and watched the boy - on impulse - scoot away from him and wipe at his eyes. _

_ “Why are you crying?” _

_ “None of your fucking business, McCormick.” _

_ Kenny did not speak again, but he did not leave the boy alone either. He sat in silence beside the noirette until Craig felt okay enough to go back to class. He helped the twelve year old stand up, careful not to touch any of his bruises. _

**~OoO~**

    He got to school early the next day, and had to wait for his friends to show up. He leaned against the wall where they normally met up at. He fidgeted with his fingers as his peers walked past him in waves. He felt their eyes on him, but he chose to ignore them. Pretending other humans do not exist has always helped Craig feel less like an outcast. He hated seeing the looks on their faces: judgemental, disgusted, hateful.  _ I’m not a fucking freak. Stop looking at me like that. _

    “Wh-what’s wrong with you, T-Tucker?” a certain blonde stuttered out as he leaned on the wall beside him. He was shivering from head to toe.  _ Why the hell doesn’t he bring a fucking sweater? _ Kenny did not receive a response from Craig, but he did not stop waiting to hear an answer. The noirette could feel Kenny studying him; he was always looking at Craig with a wondrous expression on his features. The noirette felt like puzzle the blonde was trying to solve. Even when Craig did not want to reply to him, Kenny would wait and watch him until he got an answer.

_ Might as well talk _ . “Nothing, McCormick,” he replied. It was a shitty answer, but the blonde did not deserve the real reason.  _ He’d probably figure out just by staring at me hard enough.  _ Craig ignored how sweaty his palms were getting. “Fuck off.”

    Token was slowly walking over to them with a curious glint in his brown eyes. Craig wanted to tell him to fuck off, too. Kenny pushed himself off the wall to stand directly in front of the noirette. He did not speak at first, opting to instead keep watching the other’s expressions. He felt a warmth reach his cheeks from the attention. He did not look up to meet his gaze; Craig kept his eyes glued to the floor. The blonde did not budge, as much as the noirette wanted him to, but he decided to make eye contact when Token finally reached them. This seemed to please the blonde.

    “Alright,” Kenny finally mumbled. “I’ll see you in class.”

    Craig’s eyes followed him as the boy shuffled away, wringing his hands together for friction. “Dude. You’re literally so obvious,” Token said. He wore a shit eating grin as Clyde approached them next. It aggravated the noirette. Token always acted like he could read Craig’s thoughts; the noirette did not think he was an open book. Token was just full of himself.

    “Whatever.” Craig took his hands out of his pockets to wipe the sweat off on his jeans.

**~OoO~**

_ He was soaked to the bone, but the rain was not going to let up anytime soon. Craig knew he should have brought his umbrella, but he did not want another reason for them to tease him. They would say things like,  _ the witch’ll melt in the rain. _ It made no sense why they associated Craig with black magic and creepy shit, but they were preteens. They said shit just to make a joke. _

_ He accepted his fate, and entered the school. He instantly soaked the floor around him, creating a large puddle. He heard the first few snickers from the students in the entrance, and soon enough everyone was laughing at Craig’s soaked state. He wanted to cry again - he wanted to run all the way back home. _

_ His vision began to blur with his tears, and his body started to shake with embarrassment. Craig was about to turn around and go back home to save himself from the humiliation, but a hand grabbed his arm. He jumped at the feeling, and turned to see Kenny. The blonde had a serious expression on his face as he dragged the noirette to the closest bathroom. _

_ “Take your jacket and shirt off.” _

_ “No way, you fag-” _

_ “Just fucking do it, Craig,” Kenny huffed, unzipping his bright orange parka. Craig understood the boy’s intentions now, and began to strip off his jacket and shirt. Shivering from the cold school air, he was quick to snatch the boy’s parka as soon as it was offered. He zipped it up tight, and revelled in the warmth. _

_ “Thank you.” _

_ “Don’t mention it.” _

**~OoO~**

    A shiver passed through his body as he peeled his hoodie off his body. The cold air painted his skin, and he instantly began to regret his decision as soon as the material was off his body. He dropped the sweater onto the blonde’s desk and pointedly avoided making eye contact with Kenny. “What the hell?” Kenny asked. His voice was not upset; he seemed to be extremely intrigued by the noirette’s actions. 

    “Just put it on, asshole,” his voice took on a nasally tone when he was nervous. His voice was naturally nasally, but - with several years of practice - he made it sound more steady. When he was nervous or scared, he did not have the concentration to keep his practiced and perfected voice. Craig hated his voice, and it pissed him off when it picked up in pitch. Token had told him some bullshit that one person in his past made fun of it, so now he was scared to use it. Craig told him that was stupid; he had always hated his voice. There was no changing Token’s mind, however, so he let his friend believe his psychological reasoning.

    The blonde bit at his chapped lips, staring at the hoodie like it was too good to be true. After a few moments of silence, he finally took the blue material into his hands and slipped it over his lithe body. Craig never noticed how small Kenny was; the noirette’s blue sweater was very tight on his figure, but it appeared to be baggie on the blonde.  _ Is he malnutritioned or something? _ Craig decided to ask about that at a later date.

    The noirette released a sigh of relief as he sat in his own desk and pulled out his school work for that morning. It was snowing outside when he had showed up, and Kenny wandered into the school looking like he was two seconds from freezing to death. It pissed Craig off; it pissed him off so much he could find no other option than to give the boy his favorite hoodie.

    “Thank you,” the blonde turned in his desk to address his temporary savior. They had a stare down, their eyes not being able to leave the other’s. Craig was not sure when these began, but they were becoming too often for comfort. It made the noirette exceptionally uncomfortable to hold eye contact for longer than three seconds. Kenny, on the other had, seemed to love holding people’s gazes. He would watch Craig for minutes at a time until the noirette gave in and made eye contact. Kenny opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again.  _ Why does he do that? _

    “Don’t make a big deal out of it, McCormick,” Craig said, wanting to take the attention away from himself. The blonde did not turn around in his seat; instead, he pulled the opening of the hoodie closer to his face and breathed in deeply.

    “You smell nice,” was all the blonde said before class started. Craig wanted to fight his blush, but he already knew he would not win. He could not fight his nasally voice, and he  _ could not _ fight his blushes. The warmth stained his cheeks until class ended. 

    Kenny did not jump out of his desk like he normally did when the bell rang; he stood idly by and watched Craig pack his things. The noirette took his time to put his things into his bag and arrange his pencils in his binder. He could see the blonde fidgeting in his peripherals. 

    “What?” the noirette snapped. Kenny shrunk in on himself, toying with the sleeves of the sweater.

    A silence settled between them. It was a thing Craig noticed about the blonde. Maybe it was because he barely spoke as a kid, and he carried that trait with him into his teenager years. Whatever it was, Kenny liked to choose his words before saying them. Craig had a theory is it was because he liked all his thoughts being heard in the shortest amount of time.

    “How long can I wear your sweater?” he finally voiced the question, a blush spilling onto his tan skin. The pink did not look nice with his random freckles.  _ Why are people so obsessed with blushing? It isn’t attractive at all. _

    “Until you get sick of wearing it, I guess.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Keep the fucking hoodie, Kenny. Geez,” Craig stepped around him and went to his next class. He dealt with the cold the entire day, but his friends were suspicious at the lunch table. They questioned the whereabouts of his favorite hoodie, but he refused to answer them. He would think to question why he was keeping this a secret, but a part of him felt like telling them the truth was almost a death sentence. Craig actively chose  to keep them in the dark from his charity that day.

    Token - the fucking asshole - acted like he knew the exact reason Craig was without his hoodie. The noirette avoided speaking to his friends the rest of the day. The less he spoke, the more he could arrange his thoughts. Whether or not he  _ needed _ to think about his charity was a whole other train of thought he did not want to board just yet.

**~OoO~**

_ The blonde ignored the glances he got from his classmates. Some asked why he gave  _ ‘that weird kid’ _ his favorite jacket. Kenny did not give them a response. Watching Craig tug the parka as close to his body as possible filled the blonde with a weird joy. He was a hero; this was just another one of his jobs. _

_ Kenny also did not have the heart to ask for the parka back at the end of the day. It kept his friend warm and safe from the rain, and that was all he could ask for. He shared an umbrella with Kyle on the walk back home; it was worth it to feel assured that Craig would not be sopping wet when he went home. _

_ Plus, the orange parka was kind of cute on him. _

**~OoO~**

    It pissed him off. He should have never given Kenny McCormick his fucking hoodie. The kid walked into school the next day with his nose buried in the fabric. He sighed from the scent all through their first period, making a show out of it. The students sitting around them would give him questioning glances, and Kenny would smile at them before pulling the sweater up to his face again. Craig wanted to tear the hoodie off him.

    They were not close. He and the blonde will never be friends. Craig  _ did not _ socialize; he  _ did not _ expand his social circle. He hated the world, and the world hated him. So why the hell was the blonde so obsessed with breathing in Craig’s smell? The question ate at him through all his classes. He did not bother to do his work for once; his thoughts were too occupied with the image of Kenny obsessing over the hoodie to even consider doing his work.  _ He’s driving me fucking crazy. _

    When he sat at the lunch table that day, Clyde was the first to speak. “Okay. I’m done with this. What the hell is wrong with you Craig? You literally didn’t even talk to us yesterday. Then we walk into the school to see Kenny wearing the hoodie I gave you? What the fuck man?”

    Craig was about to shrug, but the brunette’s words began to sink in him. “I-” he started. “He was cold.”

    “I’m not going to pester you about this. I know you get caught up in your own head, Craig. I know you don’t tell us everything. But I know you well enough to call bullshit here,” Token voiced his opinion, and Craig held onto every word. His eyes wandered to where Kenny sat - something he only just realized he did every single day - and watched the boy laugh with his friends. It seemed to be a habit the blonde picked up to breathe in the scent on the blue fabric. 

    “It pisses me off,” Craig coughed. It was a response he used often; it was easy, just like shrugging. Clyde looked like he wanted to say something, but no words came out of his mouth. The noirette wanted to hear his friend’s voice more than anything in that moment. He needed to fix this. “He came to school without a sweater, and he was always fucking cold. So I gave him mine. I didn’t- I just- I felt bad. To see him like that.”

    Clyde sighed, resting his hand on the noirette’s shoulder. “I’m not going to say anything. Just, stop ignoring us. Please.”

    Craig could not have agreed faster.

**~OoO~**

_ Craig should have expected things to stay the same. Maybe some part of him wanted to be friends with Kenny McCormick, but the rational side of him knew that the blonde was one of the more popular kids. They were in middle school, popularity was everything.  _

_ The noirette could only watch the blonde from afar, and he wondered why he could not find the guts to approach his savior. In his bag was the orange parka the blonde lent him; he knew he had to return it eventually.  _

_ Kenny, however, was always surrounded by his friends. These friends were the bullies Craig spent his whole life trying to ignore, so he ruled out giving it to him during the day. In the end, he could never find the right moment to return the jacket. _

**~OoO~**

    He did not know why they were trading hoodies. Rather, he knew why, but he did not want to dwell on the thought for too long. Kenny instantly brought the inside of the black hoodie to his nose, and breathed in deeply. Craig was just finishing pulling on his blue one as he watched the boy release the breath in pure pleasure. “You smell so fucking good, Craig. Why do you smell so good?”

    He rolled his eyes at the comment and sat down at his desk. The people near them watched with sharp eyes. Craig wanted to hide - to run away.  _ Stop lookin at us. _ Kenny sat down as well, turning so that his work was on the noirette’ desk. His handwriting was so neat and simple; Craig felt ashamed of his own terrible penmanship.

    “I seriously don’t know what idioms look like,” Kenny admitted as he pulled the sleeves up from his wrists to cover the palms of his hands. Craig wondered why that entranced him. Kenny had bony fingers, much like the rest of his body, and scars littering his skin. Unlike the soft tan that made up the blonde’s body, the scars were a pale white that stood prominent on his skin.  _ Where did he get all of those? _

    “Um- yeah. I’m not good at those either,” he answered when he caught himself staring, turning his paper around to show his sentences. The blonde read them carefully, and the noirette watched his face. The pink covered his cheeks again; it was ugly with his freckles. His freckles alone marred his face, the blush only added to the mix. He was lucky he did not have acne, or else Craig would consider him to be exceptionally unattractive.  _ Fucking liar. _ Though he had his haircut two weeks ago, it did not mean he maintained it. The hair looked dirty and probably smelled just as bad. 

    Kenny stopped reading to look up at him. “What’s wrong, Tucker? You look pissed,” the blonde teased.

    “Why are you working with me? We don’t- We aren’t friends,” he coughed the words out. Kenny chewed on his chapped lip -  _ fucking gross _ \- as he thought about what to say. Craig distracted himself by doodling on his work; looking at Kenny took way too much energy out of him.

    The blonde started to tap his pencil on his desk. “Why,” he started, “did you lend me your sweater?”

    “Because-” Craig stopped himself. With a sigh he raised his head to meet the blonde’s eyes again.  _ Fuck, there goes all the confidence I had. _ “Uh- because you were cold.”

    Kenny only hummed in response, focusing on the paper in front of him. His handwriting was really neat; Craig could only watch as the blonde made art out of words. The way he curved his M’s, or the sharpness to his K’s. Craig had awful handwriting, so it was almost a mystery to him how people could write so nicely. “What did you write for an example of-” Kenny stopped writing to look up at Craig. His cheeks, already a soft shade of pink, intensified into a rosy color that spread down his neck.

_ Fuck, I was staring again _ . “Uh-” Craig was at a loss for words. He searched his brain for the right thing to say, but the atmosphere was too intense for him to form coherent thoughts. They both watched each other with wide eyes and warm blushes.  _ What the fuck are we, teenage girls? _ The noirette dropped his gaze first, staring down at his paper with hideous handwriting.

    “Kenneth, this is not group work. Turn around,” the teacher drawled from the front of the room. A few of the students giggled at the usage of his real name. The blonde snatched his paper up quickly and turned to work on his own desk. 

    The noirette was deep in his thoughts. He heard his peers whispering around the room, and he feared they were talking about him. Someone beside him started to laugh loudly.  _ They’re talking about me, I know it. _ He sunk deep into his seat and worked in silence.  _ Just ignore them Craig. They don’t even know you exist. _

**~OoO~**

_ He saw Craig around the school everyday. He watched the boy avoid contact with anyone; he even went as far as flipping the bird at his teachers. Kenny wanted to talk to him, wanted to reach out. He had fresh bruises on his cheeks, and a cut on his lip. The blonde knew he was being bullied again, but he had no clue who was pulling the punches. _

_ “Kenny, stop looking over there. He’s a freak,” Cartman said. Kenny turned to look at his larger friend, not appreciating the comment.  _

_ “And you’re a fatass. Tell me something I don’t know.” _

_ When Kenny turned his attention back to the noirette, he found Craig already watching him. He tore his eyes away from Kenny, but the blonde was already smiling ear to ear.  _

**~OoO~**

    He felt sick to his stomach as he sat with his friends at the lunch table that day. His eyes were constantly darting to where the blonde sat. Kenny was always laughing when he was with his friends. He hid his smile with his hand when he giggled, and buried his face in his sweater when he was not talking. “So,” he turned his attention back to his friends. “I promised I would tell you guys.”

    “What, how you lied to us?” Token wore a look of disappointment. Craig felt guilty as his hands nervously picked at random bits of dust on his hoodie. His friends - mostly Token - were aware of his habits. When he felt anxious, he pointed out how many people were in a room. When he lost confidence, he avoided eye contact. When he was remembering the past, he did not speak to his friends at all. It was small things to notice, but the duo had to educate themselves on Craig’s mannerisms if they wanted to take care of their friend.

    “It isn’t- It’s been worse. I’m fine,” he said. Clyde rested his arm on the noirette’s shoulders, a serious look taking his features. It was always strange to see Clyde worried when he was usually so easy going. Craig felt guilty for bringing down his friends mood; his introverted tendencies should never get in the way of their friendship.

    The brunette squeezed his shoulder. “If it’s because of him-”

    “It really isn’t. I’m serious. I’m fine,” Craig tried harder to support his statement.  _ I didn’t realize they were stressing over Kenny. _ Clyde let him go with a small smile. Token shook his head before starting a conversation on how they should tie Clyde’s hair up again. The noirette paid closer attention to the conversation this time, and he drowned the rest of the world out. He told his friends he would stop ignoring them.

    When the bell rang and they all started heading back to their class, Craig was pulled to the side. Kenny was looking up at him -  _ holy shit has he always been shorter than me? _ \- with a nervous grin pulling his cheeks. Craig felt his heart stutter. He watched the blonde’s eyes scan his entire face before speaking. “Our classes are right next to each other. We should walk together.”

    Craig, with burning cheeks, nodded in agreement.

**~OoO~**

_ “So… you’re gay?” _

_ “That’s pretty much what he just told us, Clyde,” Token laughed, pulling Craig into a tight hug. The noirette tried to pull away, but Token was way stronger than him.  _ Fucking asshole, on the fucking basketball team. _ Out of the three of them Token was the most muscular. Craig was not jealous of it, but it did make him self conscious every now and then. _

_ Clyde joined in on the hug, putting his arms around the both of them. Craig was being suffocated. Regardless of his annoyances, he felt his eyes burn a little from the tears. His friends support, however overbearing they may be, was the best thing he could ask for. _

_ “Just don’t fucking tell him,” Craig warned his friends.  _

_ Clyde had to bite his hand every time Kenny walked past them the rest of the year to keep himself from spilling. _

**~OoO~**

    It became a routine for Kenny to hang out half the day with him. They stood in the hall in the morning together, spent their first period together, and walked back from lunch together. For the past week, they had been talking a lot more. Kenny still took his time to ask questions or give answers, but he did it more mindlessly than before. Craig felt good inside to know they were becoming more comfortable with one another.

    “Why do you always ignore people?” the blonde asked as they worked on their English paper. He was turned around in his desk again, blatantly ignoring their teacher’s wishes. Craig was caught off guard by the personal question.  _ Isn’t it fucking obvious? _

    “I just...don’t like people,” he answered truthfully. Kenny lifted his gaze to meet the noirette’s. This was another strange occurrence between them. It was a silent communication; Kenny seemed to really appreciate eye contact. Craig used to hate it, but he started giving in to the blonde more often. He doubted he will ever understand why the blonde loved eye contact so much, but the noirette was okay with it. 

    Kenny hummed before asking, “What about me? Do you like me?”

    Craig scoffed, returning to his work. He would like to think he played it cool and was not affected by the question at all, but he was Craig Tucker. It was no surprise that he could feel the warmth in his cheeks, the sweat on his palms, and the flips in his stomach. Kenny was stubborn, however, and he was adamant on getting the responses he wanted.

    The blonde did not remove his gaze from Craig’s face, and the blush only grew hotter. “I don’t  _ not _ like you,” he gave in and answered, not being able to handle the attention for much longer. Kenny laughed, his hand covering his mouth to muffle the giggles. The noirette looked up to watch his shoulders shake and his eyes crinkle. Kenny was not remarkably attractive - that is what Craig told himself. The noirette did not think his laughing face was cute at all.

    “I don’t-not-like-you, too,” was his response, pulling the sweater up closer to his face to bury his nose in the fabric. He was wearing Craig’s red sweater that week. The noirette could stop lending his sweaters to the blonde at any moment, but he decided not to take that away from Kenny. The blonde was deeply obsessed with Craig’s scent; the noirette figured the smell was bound to go away over time. He had to give Kenny a new sweater every week to keep it fresh.  _ That sounds creepy, even to me. _

    “You’re so fucking weird, McCormick,” Craig said. He watched as the blonde laughed into the sweater.

    “Not my fault you smell nice,” he said through the fabric. Craig rolled his eyes.

**~OoO~**

_ Kenny was not a guy that over analyzed everything. He accepted life as it was, and moved on. When Craig started ignoring him, however, he could not help but wonder about the reason. _

_ He walked over to the lunch table the trio sat at. Clyde had his knuckle between his teeth, and Token was giving him a weird grin. Craig was intensely focused on whatever homework he was doing, and refused to look up at Kenny. “Tucker,” Kenny called his name. He was scared he would not listen to him, so he kept his words to himself until the noirette looked up at him. He did not know when his fear of being unheard began, but it has always ate at Kenny. If the blonde was speaking, he wanted the people he was addressing to listen. “Do you still have my parka?” _

_ Craig coughed a little, a soft pink warming his cheeks. It was such a strange color to witness on his pale skin - Kenny was mesmerized by the sight. “Y-yeah,” his voice, though normally nasally, became even more stuffy. Kenny was surprised the noirette’s voice could get that nasally. “I-It’s at my house.” _

_ “Why haven’t you given it back?” _

_ “Ah- that’s- I-” _

_ “He’ll bring it tomorrow,” Token answered for Craig. Kenny was a bit disappointed by this, but nodded nonetheless. _

**~OoO~**

Clyde’s arm around his shoulders was not welcome, but Craig made no movement to throw him off. Token was giving the noirette that look he hated; they were ganging up on him. “Craig. My dear, sweet baby Craig,” Clyde started, pulling his friend into his side as much as possible. “I never thought I’d see the day where I had to say this-”

    “Then don’t-”

    “-but you need to get your shit together and fuck this guy.”

    Craig threw his friend’s arm off of him. Token was laughing hysterically, leaning on the wall for support. The noirette raised both his arms to flip off his friends. The blonde chose this exact moment to approach the trio.  _ Fuck’s sake. _

    “Oh no,” his voice took on a mocking tone. “Craig is pissed off.”

    Craig was having none of this. He shoved his hands deep in his pocket and went on to his sixth period. Kenny laughed into his hand as he chased after the taller teenager, trailing at his heels. Ignoring the blonde, he threw his bag onto the floor, and collapsed into his seat. 

    Kenny hopped up to sit on the top of his desk, a playful smile filling his lips. “For real though, Tucker. What’s wrong?”

    Craig sighed, leaning his head onto the blonde’s hip. They stayed in this position for a few minutes; Kenny played with the few strands of hair that escaped through the bottom of the hat. It gave him goosebumps to feel the blonde’s nimble fingers playing with his hair. When the cold fingers started to play with the hairs on his neck, a shiver ran through his body. “You should get to class,” he voiced, lifting his head from its comfortable position.

    The blonde shrugged, his blue eyes searching the noirette’s face. Craig was sure it was obvious he was having a bad day, and he knew that Kenny could read him like an open book; Craig would not be surprised if he had a notebook describing the noirette’s every facial expression. A part of him was okay with that: having someone understand him without words, that is. Craig did not like talking when he did not need to, and Kenny was great at listening to the words unspoken. 

    Kenny slid off his desk, his hand lingering on the noirette’s shoulder for a few seconds before he started to walk away. “See you, then,” he said before exiting the classroom. Craig watched his retreating figure with longing.  _ No, come back. _ With a frown, he took out his school work.  _ You’ll see him tomorrow. _

**~OoO~**

_ The spring air was fresh after the week of rain. Craig was hugging the bright orange parka to his chest as he waited for Kenny outside the middle school. He said he would be running late, but the noirette did not think he would have to wait half an hour. _

_ The students had already boarded the buses and entered their family’s vehicles. Craig looked like a complete weirdo standing outside the school. He began to wonder whether he should just leave, but the school doors opened. A certain blonde came stumbling out, a redhead right behind him.  _ That’s Kyle. Kenny’s friend. _ Craig averted his eyes, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk. _

_ “Tucker! You have it!” Kenny snatched the orange parka and tugged it onto his body. The redhead walked over to stand beside the blonde. He gave Craig an amicable smile, his green eyes scrunching up slightly. “Oh! This is Kyle, by the way. Kyle, this is Craig.” _

_ The noirette managed to make eye contact for a few moments, but he dropped his gaze back to the concrete. “Nice to meet you, Craig,” Kyle said. He sounded extremely proper, and Craig felt slightly like an ass for not even saying  _ hello _.  _

_ The blonde frowned, and his eyes focused the noirette’s face. Craig wanted to run. Without warning, Kenny wrapped his arms around the noirette. Craig jumped in surprise, but he could not wiggle away from the random hug. He felt Kyle watching the strange exchange, and Craig began to freak out. “Let me go, Kenny! Let me go!” _

_ The blonde only held onto him tighter. “Calm down, Tucker! Relax! It’s just me!” Kenny tried to relax the noirette. Craig took the words into consideration.  _ It’s just Kenny. Nothing is wrong. You’re fine. _ He took in a deep breath, and allowed the blonde to hug him. He did not realize he was shaking until his body stopped the action. _

_ “You looked like you needed one,” Kenny laughed into his shoulder once he was sure the noirette was calm. The air was humid and warm, and the hug made Craig feel gross and sticky. Regardless, he did feel the peace that came with the physical contact. “Plus, you smell so good, Craig.” _

_ Kyle’s laughter was out of control as he watched Craig push Kenny away with all his strength. _

**~OoO~**

    “Stop doing that,” Craig slapped Kenny’s hand away from his mouth. The blonde stopped laughing for a moment to understand what just happened.

    “What?”

    “Covering your mouth when you laugh.”

    He watched the blush spread along the blonde’s tan skin. It still clashed with his freckles, but Craig was growing to appreciate the pink glow. Kenny started to chew on his lip again.  _ That’s the next habit I’ll fix. _ He knew the blonde was planning to say something; he always chewed on his lip when he was choosing his words carefully. Craig was beginning to notice a lot of the small quirks that came with Kenny: his love for eye contact, his way of speaking, his weird habits. Craig had a mental list of all of them.

    He was given plenty of time to learn these quirks; it had been a month since Clyde confronted him about his feelings. Craig did not take his advice, but the thoughts still wandered into his mind every now and then. He did not think it was too obvious he found the blonde attractive, or that he - dare he fucking say - had a crush on him; however, his friends made it clear that the two made it obvious. Token’s exact words were, “You guys practically eye fuck every day.” Craig did not take too kindly to the statement.

    The noirette has had a mild crush on the blonde for years. Token and Clyde already knew, and grew aggravated when Craig would openly stare at Kenny and never speak to him. Token also had an inkling to Craig’s insecurities, and he worried about his friend. The noirette had to consistently assure him that Kenny was not triggering his insecurities, but neither of his friends believed him. It was not entirely false. The blonde was actually doing a pretty good job at helping Craig with his uncertainties. Kenny, all the same, was also the reason the noirette was even thinking about his issues to begin with.

    “Let’s make a deal then, Tucker,” Kenny’s voice instantly cut through his thoughts. Craig raised a brow at the statement. Kenny leaned forward so that he was closer to the noirette. His voice dropped to a whisper, “I’ll stop if you give me a hug. Right after school.”

    Craig’s eyes instantly scanned the room. His peers were working on the classwork together, all laughing and gossiping. These were the same people that made fun of Craig and bullied him for years. They were the reason Craig avoided making new friends; they were especially the reason the noirette never initiated physical contact himself.  _ Fuck. Shit. I’m not doing this. _

    He sighed loudly, giving Kenny a pleading look. “I don’t think I can,” Craig answered honestly, meeting the blonde’s soft gaze. Kenny’s rough hand rested on top of Craig’s; his thumb rubbed circles into the skin. Craig had exceptionally pale skin, so the tan hand on his looked much darker than usual. His eyes zeroed in on the small scars lining the boy’s hand, but he still made no comment.  _ Someday I’ll ask him about it.  _ Kenny’s fingers were cold, and Craig was making a mental note to bring the blonde gloves.

    “I think you can,” Kenny assured him, his voice taking a much gentler tone. Craig was not sure it was the blonde that spoke. Kenny tended to be loud so he could be heard, but - in that moment - he sounded unsure of himself. 

    “Then I’ll try,” he said. Kenny’s face split into a large grin.  _ What a weird kid. _

**~OoO~**

_ The years went by, and he and Craig did not talk as much as they used to. Their classes never aligned, and their schedules were always polar opposites. They tried to hang out, but they never had the time to chill outside of their social groups. Kenny was always with Kyle, Stan, and Cartman. Craig was always with Clyde and Token. _

_ They would say hello to each other in the halls, but they never went out of their way to be with one another. Their friendship took a dive, and now people barely remembered when Kenny saved Craig Tucker from the rain.  _

_ Kenny would do anything to hug the noirette again, and breathe in that smell. At least, he thought he would do anything. When they all started high school, things only grew more hectic. They barely had time for their actual friends, let alone each other. _

_ They did not wave at each other in the halls anymore. _

_ Kenny forgot to say hi when he passed the noirette. _

_ Craig never made eye contact. _

**~OoO~**

    When school let out, Craig thought for sure he was going to have a panic attack. His stomach was flipping and turning, his palms were sweating, and his knees felt weak. He told Token and Clyde what he was going to attempt to do - after the two boys harassed him over why he was acting so strange. Token had told him to go for it, and to stop being nervous. Clyde, as jealous as he could get, pulled Craig into his own hug. 

    They were annoying as hell, but they were his friends. With shaking legs, Craig made his way to the front of the school. Kenny was waiting for him, his blue eyes watching the world around him. He was always aware of his surroundings. Craig felt he should start paying more attention to the world around him, but then he remembered he hates the world and everyone in it. He abandoned the idea quickly.

    “Yo,” Craig said. His voice was just as nasally as he expected it to be. Kenny turned around to face him, his face lighting up. He blamed his blush on the frigid weather.

    “Hey!” He bounded over to where Craig stood awkwardly. It took no time at all for Kenny to wrap his arms around the taller male’s torso, hiding his face in the boy’s shoulder. Craig felt his blush burn into his cheeks and catch his neck and shoulders on fire. He was sure he looked absolutely red simply because he was so pale.

    His heart was pounding in his ears as he wrapped his own arms around the boy. Their body heat multiplied, and he felt like he had willingly stepped into a fire. “You smell so nice, Craig,” the blonde sighed into his neck, and Craig thought for sure he just died. His heart was a drum in his ears, and he felt his blood pump through his body.

    Then he heard it. The whispers and the  _ aw _ s from the girls passing them on their way out of the school. Craig tried to pull away from the blonde, but Kenny had a tight grip on him. The noirette felt his breathing pick up in speed, and he  _ needed _ to let go. His bones began to buzz, and his vision became fuzzy. Kenny’s hold on him only grew tighter. “Calm down. Stop thinking about them. For real, Craig. Focus on me,” the blonde whispered to him.

    Craig tried to do as he said. He tried to pretend he did not hear his peers, and he instead focused on the heat of the blonde. He took in a deep breath -  _ his hair actually smells really fucking nice _ \- and felt the static in his bones disappear. His vision returned next, and he could see the pink on the blonde’s cheeks. The panic was slowly going away, and he could feel the vibrations of Kenny’s laughter on his chest.

    “You don’t change at all, Tucker,” he said as he pulled away from the taller male. Craig would be offended if the comment were not so true. He could not remember a time in his life where his peers’ opinions of him did not matter to him. He was always scared of their judgement, always afraid of what they think of him. In middle school, he was even more fearful. They beat him up in bathrooms, and they called him names in the middle of class. He was that “weird and creepy” kid that no one had time for. No one, except for  _ Kenny _ .

    When the embarrassment calmed inside of Craig, he was able to meet the blonde’s eyes again. “I’m- I uh- wouldn’t mind hugging again,” he stared at the concrete as he said this. Kenny began to laugh again; he lifted his hand to cover his mouth, but remembered that Craig did not want him doing that anymore. He shoved his hands into the hoodie’s pocket and grinned at the noirette.

    “Then we’ll hug everyday,” he offered.

**~OoO~**

    They did not hug everyday, but it was the thought that counted. The winter lasted a few more weeks, and the boys had developed a ritual. Craig continued to lend his sweaters and hoodies to Kenny. Sometimes he would ‘forget’ it at home just so Craig could give him a new one early. Some days, he makes the taller male hug him until he warms up again before stealing his sweater.

    The blonde liked to make Craig walk down the hallways with his arm over Kenny’s shoulder. The first few times they did it, the taller thought for sure he was going to explode from embarrassment. The more they did it, however, the more comfortable he got with holding Kenny close to him. The blonde’s hand in his back pocket was a constant reminder that he was, in fact, holding his crush. His insecurities felt like a thing of the past when he was with the blonde, and it was such a nice feeling.

    When their first period ended, Craig dreaded going the rest of the day not having a class with the blonde. Walking back from lunch with him only lasted a couple minutes, and he did not get to enjoy their time together. He pulled Kenny to the side as soon as the exited the classroom.

    “Can we talk? After school?” Craig’s voice had gone up in pitch, proof of how nervous he was. Kenny nodded up at him, a dumb smile taking his face.

    “Sure, thing, Tucker,” he agreed.

    He found him in the same place he was last time. It was not nearly as cold outside, and Kenny was without a sweater. His tan skin glowed in the sun, and Craig wondered why he never fully appreciated how beautiful Kenny’s skin was.  _ How beautiful Kenny is, period. _ He coughed to distract himself from his thoughts. The blonde turned at the sound, and gave him a little wave.

    Craig dragged his feet over to Kenny, stopping directly beside him. The blonde leaned into his side, and - by force of habit - Craig put his arm over his shoulders. “So, what did you want to talk about?” Kenny asked without having to pause and think first.  _ Maybe he was thinking this entire time _ .

    “Uh-” his cleared his throat to get rid of the nasally tone. “It’s pretty dumb, actually.”

    “Tell me anyway,” Kenny said. This time Craig was positive he was not thinking about his responses. Maybe something had changed with the blonde, or maybe Kenny was confident that the noirette was listening to his every word. Craig settled with both.

    “Agh, it’s just- I don’t-” Craig cleared his throat again. “We were good friends a few years ago. Why did you stop talking to me?”

    Kenny pulled himself out of the noirette’s hold to stand directly in front of him. His blue eyes stared up at him quizzically, his eyebrows drawn together. “Stop talking?” he repeated the words as he tried to get a grip on the question. “ _ You _ stopped talking to  _ me _ .”

    Then it all made sense. Craig pulled Kenny in for another hug, his arms tight around the blonde’s back. Kenny, although hesitant, returned the embrace. “Then we both stopped,” Craig shrugged it off as if he had not asked the question in the first place. “I think what I meant to ask was, why are we friends now?”

    Their hug was warm, and the fresh and humid spring air made their skin sticky. It was oddly nostalgic. Craig’s fingers absent-mindedly massaged the back of Kenny’s head where the hair was starting to grow again; it was short and soft since he had that area shaved, and it made the boy shiver in his arms. “Are we friends?” Kenny asked, his breath making his neck even more warm.

    “We don’t have to be.”

    “Let’s be more than friends.”

    Craig laughed at the proclamation, holding the boy closer to himself. They did not speak for a few more minutes. They were breathing each other in and enjoying the sticky warmth they had to offer each other. A few people passed them, they whispered a few  _ aw _ s and such, but Craig did not mind them. His focus was completely on the blonde he was holding in his arms, and nothing else really mattered to him anymore. “Hey, Craig?” Kenny’s voice was small.

    “Hm?”

    “You smell really good.”

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback? If not, thanks for reading!
> 
> Love Fornever,  
> Frostbuny


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